


not too easy

by aVoid



Series: takeover [1]
Category: Death and Taxes (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, I mean, Implied/Referenced Suicide, i got bullied for writing this so please appreciate, no beta we die like the pineapple guy, spoilers for the ouroboros ending, what else should i call it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25190725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aVoid/pseuds/aVoid
Summary: There is only one person Grim can ask about weird profiles that keep appearing.
Relationships: Fate & Grim (Death and Taxes)
Series: takeover [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824829
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	not too easy

Grim hated it. Their human form was itchy and wearing too much heavy black fabric for the weather, not to mention the boots; they were lucky not to have real feet or they would have been gone by the time they could return to their body. Why people responsible for providing human forms had chosen this one was beyond them, probably something about capes being out of fashion. The thought that maybe hiring a demon whose previous job was tempting goth teenagers for this was not a good idea passed through their mind. Compared to what had been happening since they took over, this was just a minor mistake. 

That hadn’t even been the plan. Saving the world - yes, but only because they had just been created and wanted to experience it. Maybe not looking like this, with a cat carrier that was about to explode in their hands and a pair of combat boots devouring their theoretically existing feet (that was definitely the least planned part of the experience), but to go out and see how what they’d been doing before that whole thing happened affected them. 

Fate had moved out of the little flat adjacent to the office just a Day after he’d resigned. Grim had gone to sleep after a few hours of trying to figure out what exactly was Fate’s job and when they woke up, with their head full of questions about where to go next and how to control the world, he was gone. Grim hadn’t really tried to look for him, they’d thought they could handle it - after all, their boss had been doing this since the world had been created with little help. It couldn’t have been this hard--

It was hard, though. Grim had no idea how Fate had managed to always have the Daily conversations with every Reaper out there or how to just look at a person and decide that they were important enough to change the balance. At some point Grim had thought that maybe someone at the Office knew how Fate did that or what to do in general. No one did. 

He had taken some things, which had only been discovered when Grim had decided to try some magic. They’d wanted to get in touch with whoever else was running the world or maybe just take a look around. No one else had done that since Fate had left - there’d been no need for it. When they’d actually checked things were missing - some books, some materials, a few bags of lemons - nothing really necessary for creating new Reapers or summoning assistants, more of the _How to Stop Being an Immortal Entity in Three Simple Steps_ kind. It was slightly concerning.

Then, the profiles had started. Every few days one of the Reapers would show up in Grim’s office (and keep calling them Death, which they still hadn’t got used to) with a profile in their hand and no idea what to do, because they couldn’t just kill Mr Fate. His profile shouldn’t have even showed up and Grim would tell them to just leave it, growing more concerned every time this had happened. 

And, most importantly, Lady Pawdington missed him.

So, when it kept happening, Grim had decided to put on their new body, somehow get the cat into the carrier (using the Gerbil), ignore whatever Conscience had to say about this decision (why did it always have to be so unsupportive of them anyway?), and check on Fate. 

Finding him using the profiles and help of one of the assistants who’d worked with him had been easy, getting there - not as much, considering the boots and the cat going crazy. Figuring out how to talk to Fate was the worst part of it.  
“Cat, could you please calm down?” They lifted the carrier to their face to take a look at the Lady Pawdington for some inspiration. “Any ideas?”  
The cat hissed at them. The Gerbil let out a squeak.   
“Yeah, big mood.”

Grim tried to smile at them and it felt weird. Having skin and not wearing a cape felt weird, they didn’t even know it was _humanly_ possible to be this uncomfortable.   
“Do you want to go back to the Office when we’re done here?” they asked, still holding the carrier close to their face. Their arm was getting tired. “What should I even tell him, hm?”  
The cat didn’t respond, but she stopped trying to destroy the carrier and looked at them. Her expression was a bit too serious for Grim’s liking.   
“It’s okay if you want to stay with him. I think he’d like that. Maybe.”

A woman bumped into them and muttered something about _satanists blocking her way_. The Gerbil squeaked at this, while Grim just sighed. 

They could feel their confidence being drained as they were getting closer to Fate’s place and they’d probably reached negative numbers before their destination. They still didn’t know what to say; _Hey, are you trying to die?_ didn’t sound like a great idea nor like something they didn’t already know the answer to. Crossing the street, they started to suspect that they were not uncomfortable because of having a body; they were uncomfortable because the body came with a theoretical stomach to get the feeling of the pit in. 

And then there were the stairs, probably installed there just to make them quit. 

Grim hated the stairs. Their theoretical knees hated the stairs. The cat hated both the carrier and the stairs and the Gerbil hated its entire existence, probably. Or maybe they all just wanted to hate something other than the conversation they were about to take part in.   
“I did not come here to feel like this,” said Grim to the cat.  
_Meow_ , Lady Pawdington replied and it sounded like _You didn’t come here to feel good, either._

They took a deep breath, trying not to pay attention to the fact that having lungs was not exciting at all, and entered the dark corridor leading to Fate’s flat. Their steps echoed in the small space; they decided it wasn’t pleasant. The cat was quiet in a way that wasn’t very comforting.   
“Hey, cat, we can’t give up now, right?” She stayed silent, but the Gerbil squeaked again, probably feeling ignored. “Sorry. This just-- It doesn’t look like a place where he would live,” _and I am still talking to a cat and a living toy,_ they thought to themself.

They knocked on the door and it felt too loud and out of place. It was quiet on the other side and for a second Grim wondered if the assistant had given them the right address. Then they heard movement, some footsteps, the sound of something heavy being moved, and finally a key being turned. The cat was back to trying to break out of the carrier, either out of excitement or uncertainty. 

The door opened. The first thing that stood out was the overwhelming scent of lemon. Grim’s theoretical nose wasn’t happy about it; in fact it was so upset, it delayed the realisation that the person, still half hidden behind the door, was Fate.

“What are you doing here, Grim?” 

To put it lightly, Fate didn’t look great. He was pale and, even though Grim was not able to see through his glasses, they were sure that the shadow visible below the rims was dark circles under Fate’s eyes. His shoulders were hunched, which was only made more visible by the fact that he was not wearing the jacket that Grim had got so used to seeing him in. 

He sounded tired. 

Everything that Grim had thought of telling him disappeared as soon as they opened their mouth.  
“The cat wanted to see you,” they blurted out, pointing at the carrier. “And someone had to get her here, I guess.”  
Fate looked at the carrier, then back at Grim. He sighed deeply.  
“Is it about the profiles?”  
“It is about the profiles.”

Fate fully opened the door to let them in. He seemed slow, as if moving around took too much energy he didn’t have in the first place. 

The hallway Grim found themself in was narrow and dark. It was not the usual kind of darkness, though - they could see just fine in that; it was the type of darkness that would surround the Office when a Day was over. Grim noticed _something_ on the wall opposite to the entrance - it was covered with a piece of thick fabric. 

The cat meowed impatiently, as Fate lead them to a tiny living room which reminded Grim of one of the ritual spaces in the Office. It was full of books - not all of them were the missing ones, that was just not possible - and different types of equipment. The most noticeable piece was a cauldron placed on a table next to what they assumed must have been an empty notebook. Thick yellow smoke was hovering over it.

"I should have asked - are you still going by Grim?" Fate sat down on the couch, somehow finding space between a stack of notes and a half-burnt book that looked as if it was going to fall apart if he got too close to it.  
"I was thinking of Oliver for a while--" they took a deep breath, while Fate failed to contain a chuckle.   
"Amazing. Original."  
"-- but for some reason it’s Death now. You can still call me Grim, though."

They set the carrier next to the cauldron to let the cat out. She seemed less excited to get out now. After a few seconds, though, she stepped out of the carrier and climbed onto the couch next to Fate and laid down on the pile of notes. Fate absentmindedly reached to pet her and she reacted with quiet purring.

“I can leave her here with you if you want…?”   
“I will have to think about it.”  
“It’s your cat, I have no idea why you decided to leave her in the Office in the first place.”  
“Well, she’s been there for centuries. I’m surprised she didn’t rip your new body to shreds when you decided to bring her here.”

Grim sat on the edge of the table, even though there was an empty chair next to it. It was something they’d picked up in the last few days, probably because the assistants would often do it. Especially with their stupidly long temporary human legs.  
“She tried to.” The Gerbil squeaked in agreement, making one last attempt to forget the battle between Grim and the cat. “So about--”  
“How was your first month, then?” asked Fate, trying to avoid the conversation about the profiles.   
“I think it was okay? The world didn’t get destroyed, so that’s a win.” They smiled awkwardly - the realisation that saying that to a man who had tried to end existence came a bit too late. “I could use some advice on the technical aspects, though.”  
“Why don’t you ask--”  
“I came here to ask. About this and other things.”  
“Grim,” Fate pinched the bridge of his nose, “in case you haven’t noticed, I quit. I want nothing to do with the Office. The assistants who still work there should be able to help you. Karen should know.”  
“All they told me is that you’d never told them anything. And Karen quit, too.”  
“You’ve managed to make _her_ quit? I truly admire your leadership skills, Grim.”  
“What did you expect handing the power to me? I am made of lemons and a deathwish. You could have chosen anyone else.”  
“Not really.” Fate ignored Grim’s questioning look. “You said you wanted it.”  
“Okay, then the world is stuck with me for now. So, what about the profiles?"

Fate sighed. He glanced at Lady Pawdington, as if waiting for her to help him explain, and fixed his glasses. Then he got up and moved towards one of the bookshelves, leaving Grim to exchange a dumbfounded look with the cat. After a moment of searching, he spoke again.   
“As you probably know, a profile marked for Death will kill anyone and anything--”  
“That’s not true.”  
“Lanzo’s profile was a critical misprint.”  
Grim rolled their eyes. The profile of Masashinge Oni Lanzo still would appear every few Days and they couldn’t do anything about it. They’d told everyone to just ignore it, check it as any other profile and make the decision based on what would work best for the Day. 

Fate cleared his throat and continued. His voice was quieter now.  
“I can explain the first… probably three, maybe four of my profiles that you’ve found.”  
“Please do.”  
“Turning an immortal being into a mortal one requires power,” stated Fate. He took some of the books from the shelf and started stacking them on the floor.  
“Fair.”  
“I have tried to perform a ritual which would require the level of power that I’d been able to use in the Office. The level which lets you create intelligent life and have a say in the Day cycle. As it turned out, my resignation had given most of my power to you. And you… didn’t even notice?“  
Grim ignored the question; they’d been too busy trying to not end the world on their first Day to test if they’d even had new powers.  
“So… you almost died by trying to use power that you didn’t have to die?”  
“In essence, yes. I did not expect you not to take the chance to kill me.”

They needed a moment to process this; they hadn’t felt any more powerful after taking over the position than on the first day. Back when Fate had still been their boss, they could sense the aura of power surrounding him and now they could sense that it was gone. And despite all this power, Grim could not create intelligent Reapers - they’d tried, failed, and assumed it was caused by the lack of books and equipment. 

It made no sense. 

“That’s still only one of them.”  
“I had to test if the spell worked,” Fate pointed to a barely visible scar on his temple and then to another one, partially covered by the collar of his shirt. “It never did.”

Grim felt their theoretical throat tighten. Anxiety in their usual body was different - that body didn’t have a heart that would beat faster as they got nervous nor palms that could get sweaty. They took a breath as deep as they could considering their lungs were being crushed by the realisation that the being standing before them could die soon and they had no idea how that would affect the world. 

“I have… an offer for you,” they finally said, which made Fate stop organising books and look at them.  
“I am not going back.” He didn’t look at Grim but they could feel the aura of annoyance surrounding him.  
“Hear me out. If you teach me how to do your job, I could let you use the ritual rooms. You could become mortal.” Grim wasn’t sure about this. They weren’t sure about anything, really, but that was the only thing they could do - forcing an ancient entity into therapy was probably not a solution, and Grim barely had any idea what therapy was in the first place.   
“If I wanted to work there, I wouldn’t have left. Besides, you seem to be doing just fine.”  
The cat meowed and this time it sounded like _Oh, they are not._ Grim could argue; they were doing great, considering that no one had ever explained anything to them. The Gebril was the one to actually argue through a series of squeaks.  
“Thanks, cat.” Grim nodded in her direction. She meowed again - _No problem._ “Think about it, you could have the access to... Everything…? Whatever you’ll need.”  
“I have everything here.”  
“I know, but maybe the Office would give you enough power to--”  
“Fine.”

Fate seemed surprised with himself, which, in turn, surprised Grim. They didn’t think this through; now they had to figure out how to explain that he was coming back, even though they were sure no one would ask, and how to keep Fate in the Office long enough to make sure that his death, which Grim wanted to avoid at all cost, wouldn’t affect the world. There was so much to take care of, but they didn’t regret suggesting it. Maybe annoying their former boss into staying alive was not the perfect solution - it worked, though. 

Fate picked the neatly stacked books up from the floor. He considered saying something for a moment, but stopped himself.   
“Take these,” he said, placing the books on the table. “I will be there Tomorrow, with Lady Pawdington”  
“Thank you.”  
  


  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> big thanks to my friends who bullied me for asking about the use of lemons in magic i guess.  
> this one is just to. establish certain ideas.  
> feel free to come talk to me on tumblr [@voidistooshortforausername](https://voidistooshortforausername.tumblr.com/)


End file.
